


The hardest part was letting go

by QueenUnderTheMountain (Rinchen)



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 04:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1537532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinchen/pseuds/QueenUnderTheMountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You are leaving.”<br/>Bilbo said nothing but looked at the hem of his tunic, fiddling with a thread.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The hardest part was letting go

Bilbo stumbled through the utter chaos that has ensued not soon after the cries of Men, Elves and Dwarves alike that Azog and Bolg had been slain reached his ears. He searched for someone he knew but his efforts were not rewarded. As he sat miserable on a stone next to a tent a shadow fell over him.

“Well, that's a relief. Bilbo Baggins. You are alive. But we have no time. Come, you are summoned.”

“Summoned! Whereto, Gandalf?”

“Thorin. Of Course.”

“I … Gandalf …”

“Have heart, Bilbo. Come, he has asked for you.” Gandalf laid his hands on Bilbo's back and guided him to the tent Thorin was brought to. There he opened the flap and shoved Bilbo inside.

The Hobbit gasped as he had entered the tent. On a cot laid Thorin, propped up with furs and blankets, hair undone and face pale. As Bilbo carefully came closer Thorin opened his eyes warily.

“Bilbo. You came.” He stretched out his hand and Bilbo hurried closer, kneeling beside the cot and taking the cold hand. “Farewell, my good burglar. I hope you forgive me my flaws and think of me when I was in my right mind.”

“Thorin, no. Don't say something like that. You are not going to die.” Bilbo let his tears run down his cheeks. “You will live. You have your kingdom to rule. You cannot die! Please!”

“You taught me to value the small things of life. I will hold that dear and always remember your smile in the halls of my ancestors.”

“Thorin! No! You will see it in your own halls, please!”

“Say that you forgive me.”

“Yes, yes. I forgive you. But please, you must live.” Thorin closed his eyes and drew out a shaky breath. “Live for me, Bilbo Baggins.”

“Thorin! No! Help! Please, help!” The next Bilbo knew was that he was pressed against a broad chest, possibly Dwalin's, and steered out of the tent as chaos ensued in it.

* * *

Juggling with the tray as he closed the door Bilbo entered the room in which Thorin laid on his sickbed. The Hobbit had volunteered to care for Thorin because he wasn't as strong as the Dwarves and therefore couldn't lift heavy stones and “Really Balin, it is no problem. Somebody has to do it.”

That had been three weeks ago and Thorin hadn't woken since then. After one week they had transported him from the tent into the mountain as the Royal Quarters had been cleaned out. Now Thorin laid on the comfortable bed of the King's Rooms, weak and pale.

Bilbo put the tray he was carrying on the nightstand and turned to renew the wet cloth on Thorin's forehead. He removed the old one and dipped it into the cold water before wringing it out and placing it back on Thorin's forehead. The Hobbit smoothed out the cloth and caressed Thorin's cheek carefully as he saw it. The eyes of the Dwarf were open. He gasped.

“You're awake.”

“How … how long?” Thorin croaked weakly.

“Not that long. About three weeks. We brought you here a fortnight ago.”

“Fili? And Kili?”

“They are alive and a downright menace to the healers. They have both wounds from arrows and a few broken limbs, Fili is suffering from concussion too. But they are healing well. As did you.”

Bilbo talked to no end but didn't look Thorin directly in the eyes.

“You stayed.”

“Someone had to care for you.” Bilbo fiddled with the hem of Thorin's blanket. Thorin shifted slightly and lifted his arm to stroke over Bilbo's cheek. But as soon as he was able to reach out Bilbo retreated. 

“I'll call for Oin. He said he wanted to know when you're awake.”

* * *

A few days after Thorin had woken up Bilbo found himself once again in Thorin's chambers, bringing him his food.

“It is not much and only broth, but your stomach wouldn't take much more eitherway.” He set the tray on the nightstand and set the lap tray onto the bed before putting the bowl on it.

“Did you feed me while I was asleep?”

“Eat your broth. You have to gain strenght.” Bilbo avoided Thorin's eyes.

“Did you feed me, Bilbo? Tell me.”

“Yes I did! And I didn't poison you. Are you happy now, Your Majesty?”

“I didn't …!” Thorin suddenly understood.” You haven't forgiven me at all. And you think that I have not truly forgiven you.” Bilbo bit his lip.

“Bilbo … I … I wasn't in my right mind.”

“I know. You don't have to tell me that fact for the thousandth time. I perfectly understood the first time. Now eat.” Bilbo turned to tidy up the room but Thorin caught him on his wrist.

“Let me go, Thorin.”

“No. Not before you say that you forgive me.”

“Let go of me, Thorin, or I scream.” Bilbo hissed furiously. Thorin let go of Bilbo's wrist as if he had burned himself on it.

After this incident Bilbo talked only the necessary with Thorin but was still bringing him food and tending to him. And if he let his look linger one moment longer than it was proper on Thorin's torso it was completely his business.

Thorin noticed the tenseness in Bilbo but didn't say anything. He just hoped that Bilbo was able to forgive him one day. And if it would take one hundred years.

* * *

It happened as Bilbo sat on a stool next to Thorin's bed, reading the draft of a contract to him. Bilbo had laid a hand on the mattress, drawing circles with his index finger, Thorin's hand resting right next to it. The Dwarf moved the hand a little bit, stroking the side of Bilbo's hand. As the Hobbit didn't withdraw his hand, Thorin carefully placed his palm on the back of Bilbo's hand. Bilbo raised his eyes to Thorin, then sideeyeing their joined hands before turning his. He smiled and squeezed Thorin's hand lightly.

They sat a good while like this, looking each other in the eyes and caressing each other's hands. Then, after a crush sounded from the hallways, Bilbo retreated his hand and the magic of the moment was gone.

“We should correct this contract. Balin wants it done this evening. And it is nearly time for dinner.”

Thorin nodded but smiled. At least Bilbo had let him touch him and didn't retreat immediately.

* * *

Their relationship started to get normal again after the hand holding incident as Bilbo had called it laughing one evening as they were sitting together, reading and talking. As the hours grew later Bilbo yawned in shorter intervals.

He closed his book, raised from the spot he was sitting on on the foot end of Thorin's bed and stretched himself.

“I will retire. It must be well near midnight. And you must rest.”

“Why don't you sleep here? The bed is big enough.”

“Ah … well. You know. I … turn a lot in my sleep and would disturb you gravely. You still must heal.” Bilbo mumbled, grabbed his things and hurried to the door. 

“You still do only your duty, don't you? You … it is my stupidity that keeps you still away from me. I should have known. The damage I've done to our relationship is beyond repair.”

Bilbo sighed exhausted and opened the door. “Good night, Thorin. You should sleep as well.” With that he left the room and closed the door behind him.

This night Thorin didn't sleep much. He was devastated. The Dwarf hadn't expected Bilbo to be that harsh. He sighed and turned around in his bed, hissing as one of his wounds stung. The relationship and everything he and Bilbo had was over. He had to see through the facts.

Thorin had given up all hope of a relatively normal companionship between Bilbo and himself as something happened Thorin hadn't thought possible: Bilbo was so relaxed in his presence that he fell asleep while reading next to Thorin. The Dwarf smiled and stroke gently through Bilbo's hair, careful not to wake him, and just sat next to Bilbo watching him sleeping. Hadn't Thorin been watching he wouldn't have noticed the twitching of Bilbo's eyes and the frown that appeared between them. He had witnessed enough nightmares to see when one was approaching. So he did the only thing he could do. He drew Bilbo close to him and tried to calm the Hobbit down without waking him.

But it didn't work. Bilbo tossed and turned in his sleep, muttering something under his breath. Then he woke with a start, sitting up quickly. “No! Thorin! Don't let me fall!”

Thorin's eyes widened and he withdrew the hand he had laid as comfort on Bilbo's arm like he was burned. The Hobbit looked slightly disorientated so Thorin did the only thing that came into his mind. He drew Bilbo onto his chest, plastering kisses into his hair. “I won't let you fall, I promise. I would have never let you fall.” Bilbo calmed down again and turned in Thorin's arms, his green eyes looking tiredly at the Dwarf. Thorin couldn't help himself and smiled at Bilbo, putting all the love he felt for the Hobbit into his look.

Bilbo whimpered lowly and clung onto Thorin, hand burying in his tunic.

“I don't let you fall. Ever.” Thorin whispered in Bilbo's ear and held him in his arms. The Hobbit sighed and snuggled himself into Thorin's embrace. Never letting go of the tunic.

“Sleep, my Bilbo. I will protect you. Sleep and don't let sorrow reign you dreams.” Thorin placed a soft kiss into Bilbo's curls and wrapped the blanket around both of them.

* * *

Thorin was confused as Bilbo stretched on the next evening as they sat again next to each other, reading, grabbed a little pack Thorin wasn't even aware had been in the room and went to the bathroom that was included to the Royal Quarters. Bilbo left this bathroom not much later, wearing a long tunic that reached to his ankles.

“What are you doing?”

“I am preparing for bed.”

“You will sleep here?” Thorin didn't dare to hope.

“Of course. Last night I had the best sleep since … well … you know. And I though I could give it a try … If I may …”

Thorin's eyes widened. Bilbo would sleep in the same room as him. “Certainly you may sleep here. Wait, I'll make a little space for you. And you can have as many pillows as you want.”

“Thank you.” Bilbo smiled honestly at Thorin, climbing on the bed and crawling under the blanket. He embraced the Dwarf and even played with a little strand of hair that had escaped the practical ponytail Thorin was wearing. Thorin got an idea and smirked.

“Do you want to braid my hair? You liked to do that, before … “

Bilbo retreated a little bit and looked at Thorin. “Yes, I would like to do that. Will you open your hair please and hand me the brush? I'll fetch the oil from the nightstand.”

After that Bilbo began to tend to Thorin's hair every evening, just before they would lie down to sleep. It was soothing for them both and built up a closeness they thought was lost.

* * *

The months passed and soon Thorin was able to leave his bed. With help from Bilbo and Fili and Kili, who were able to leave their beds a month earlier, Thorin made his first steps behind the doors of the Royal Quarters and later out in the halls. Other Dwarves who were passing bowing deeply in front of Thorin and praising Bilbo for his healing hands.

One evening, the snow on the mountainside has long molten away, Bilbo and Thorin sat in front of the Dwarf's fireplace, the Hobbit tending to Thorin's hair, humming a soft tune. Thorin smiled. After a long time he was happy and content again.

Bilbo fastened the end of Thorin's braid with a bead and let his fingers run through its length. He had laid the other hand on Thorin's chest, leaning closer to the Dwarf. The Hobbit bit his lip, crooked his head slightly and closed the distance between them to kiss Thorin lovingly.

Thorin gasped and looked disbelievingly at Bilbo after they parted. But the Hobbit didn't look at him. He looked ashamed. Even sad. Thorin blinked and asked the question whose answer he feared.

“You are leaving.”

Bilbo said nothing but looked at the hem of his tunic, fiddling with a thread. Thorin got indignant.

“Tell me! Are you leaving?”

Bilbo nodded, looking up to Thorin, pain in his eyes.

“When?”

“In … in three days. Gandalf arrived not long before I brought you dinner, he wants to leave then and accompany me to Rivendell. From there a Ranger could travel with me.”

“I see. You surely have much to prepare.”

“Actually, I only have a backpack.”

“Then you want to spent the time with your friends.”

“But …” Bilbo looked at Thorin. “Oh, I understand.” He rose. “Do I see you tomorrow evening?”

“Balin has given me much to read.”

Bilbo nodded, tears welling up. He collected his things and went to the door. “Goodbye, Thorin.”

* * *

Bilbo didn't look back to Erebor as he was riding down the Mountain, Gandalf on a horse behind his pony. He hadn't seen Thorin since their kiss three days ago. The King hadn't even come to say goodbye. Bilbo was hurt. He was hurt deeply.

The trek through Mirkwood was uneventful. They met a group of Elves right on its borders and passed it without even hearing the spiders that were still there but became less and less with each passing day. As they had passed through the thick wood the Elven Guards left them and Bilbo rode with Gandalf to Beorn, the Skin Changer who hosted them half a year ago and who carried a wounded Thorin from the battleground.

After a meal with much bread, nuts and honey Bilbo fetched his pipe and sat down in the green meadow, eyes looking east. The rabbits were hopping around him and he nearly felt like he was in the Shire again. The Shire. Sure, he longed for his garden, armchair and books but were they really still important to him? As he took a puff from his pipe a shadow fell over him.

“Little Bunny has forgotten something in the big mountain.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Little Bunny will not be happy with the other Hobbits.”

“Beorn, what do you …?”

“The Mountain King is deep in the heart of the Little Bunny. I am not blind or stupid. I know a broken heart. Little Bunny must go back to the Mountain in the East and to the King.”

* * *

Bilbo left in a haste the next morning, leaving instructions what had to happen with Bag End. Strangely an Elf met him at the borders of Mirkwood who Bilbo remembered to be Legolas, the son of Thranduil. He accompanied Bilbo through the wood and up to Dale, biding his farewell there, leaving the Hobbit alone to ride up to Erebor.

The Guard at the gates recognized Bilbo instantly and called for Dwalin who escorted Bilbo to Thorin, relief visible on his face. He opened the door for Bilbo and pushed the Hobbit inside, winking with an eye.

“I ordered to leave me alone.” Thorin sat on his desk, eyes on a document, dark circles under them. Bilbo didn't dare moving or speaking. How would Thorin react to his return?

“Leave or say your piece. I have work to do.”

“I … I'm back.” Bilbo croaked. Thorin's head jolted up and his eyes widened.

“Bilbo ...” He pushed the chair backwards, rounded the table and stood with four big strides in front of the Hobbit. There he looked at the whole length of him, laid his hand on Bilbo's arms and drew the Hobbit in a strong embrace.

“You came back. You came back to me.”


End file.
